Exotic Pieces Of Art
by Crash AKA Valerie
Summary: Deidara loves art, its his passion. Ino’s a piece of art but she needs refining. True art can only be found if expressed through the darkest things in life. Deidara is willing to refine this art.


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Rating: M (mature audiences only)

Summary: Deidara loves art, its his passion. Ino's a piece of art but she needs refining. True art can only be found if expressed through the darkest things in life. Deidara is willing to refine this art. (Sorry my description seems to suck a little)

AN: Well I like weird pairings, and I like my stories a little sick and twisted.

Warnings: a seriously dark fic, if you don't like don't read. Deidara/Ino

_Growing up isn't always fun_

_They tore your dress, took your ribbons_

_They watch you cry, the lick their lips_

_Butterflies don't belong in nets_

She was a work of art, perfection of the human form, and that's why he loved her. Deidara was a man that loved art, the fleeting vision of beauty that defined his every moment. This art didn't define him though he controlled her she was is to play with as he pleased, and play he did.

She was a konoha kounichi, sent on the wrong mission at the wrong time. It was a simple mission really, deliver a message to some village, it should have gone off without a hitch but she ran into the wrong people. She ran into akatsuki and then, as any smart shinobi would do, she ran. Of course they wouldn't let her go away, nobody that strayed their path was ever allowed to live. Deidara was sent after her, and even humored her in battle.

She really was pathetic, but he did in fact battle her watching smugly as she fell for the simplest of traps. Her taijutsu was deplorable, and her genjutsu laughable, ninjutsu barely evident. She was a weak kounichi, a pathetic excuse for a konoha Ninja.

But she was perfect in other ways, long bleach blonde hair dangling down her back, big blue eyes, enough curves to turn a gay man straight, legs that went on for miles, and a sharp tounge even when losing. She was a perfect example of every mans fantasy. It was all real, no genjutsus covering her delicate frame.

He took her. He had knocked her out in one swift move, and carried her to the base. She was no burden, fitting perfectly into his arms weight not even affecting his stride. Nobody in Akatsuki said a thing, after all nothing another member did was any of their business and he was left alone with her. Left alone to play with his new piece of art.

Art was beauty, a certain fleeting beauty born from the deep, dark, and dreadful parts of life. She was beautiful but he had to make her better. Her porcelain skin was gorgeous but the flaws in art were what really made something beautiful, the flaws which stood out and made the natural beauty look so much nicer in comparison. He became giddy at the very thought of scarring that pretty skin.

Kunais were a plain boring ninja tool, but they were the most valuable for use on his new piece. Of course he had restrained her first, very tightly with no room for movement, for fear that the slightest movement would ruin his delicate work. Then he began his delicate work urged onward by her meaningless threats. The exposure came first, the kunai used to slice through and remove the ugly purple outfit covering his art, or course he could have taken off her clothes before restraining her but this was far more fun. She screamed and swore more after this action, trying her hardest to squirm out of the bonds holding her, face adorning a look of pure hatred but her eyes held a more beautiful emotion fear.

The vulgarities and threats spewing from her mouth still did little to deter him, instead making him want to decorate her more. Deidara instantly began his work tracing the kunai quickly across her arm in a curvy pattern, pressing hard enough for tiny droplets of crimson to spill onto his little porcelain figure. The vulgarities stopped replaced by a sharp intake of breath as the kounichi held back a yelp. The thought did not deter him, he could make her scream at any moment, and so he allowed her the small privilege of maintaining her dignity, for now at least. Slowly each arm was bleeding slightly, each arm perfectly symmetrical to the other. Both legs with tiny slashes winding up the calf and thigh. Lines of perfect symmetry decorating her stomach and chest.

Thats where Deidara stopped, he could always finish the back of his little doll another time, but now the most important feature was waiting to be decorated. Her face plain and bear, boring in every sense of the word. The problem was designing, making it truly beautiful. It couldn't be symmetrical, it had to stand out from the reset of her beautifully marred body. She squirmed as the kunai approached her face, unfortunately he couldn't restrain her head and her violently shaking it did little to help his art. He scoffed loudly grabbing her long blonde hair with his free hand and holding her head still.

She whimpered eyes now expressing terror like they never had before. He smirked, her face looked truly beautiful when contorted in horror. A dark laugh echoed across the room and Ino couldn't control the violent shiver that wracked her body.

"Don't worry, this will only hurt for a moment, yeah" Deidara commented quietly, kunai inching closer to the girls eye. Ino squealed then, followed soon after by every obscenity she knew. Deidara ignored her for the most part, lightly pressing the tip of the kunai into the skin touching her eye, carving a small rose stemming from her eyes out to her temple. Tears drifted from her eyes, he wasn't sure why, maybe it was the pain catching up to her or maybe she felt tainted by his last touch.

Tainted, that was just silly. He was making her beautiful. A feeling of rage overtook his cheerful demeanor for a second, she wasn't appreciating his art. His hand disentangled from her hair and made its way to her cheeks where the mixture of blood and tears rolled from her face, tiny pink droplets falling to his sheets. His face slowly reverted back to its normal cheerful self, as hhe realized that before he was done she would recognize his art.

He stood from the bed walking over to his personal bathroom and returning with a small wet cloth. Delicate artist hands slowly ran the cloth up and down her body, cleaning the wounds of the blood which hid his true handiwork ignoring her face because her tears had already wiped the blood away. Deep red lines adorned her skin now, lined which would turn white and forever stand out on her skin. A finger followed on of the lines up her stomach stopping just at her chest as she heaved in heavy breaths in attempt to stop her tears.

The breathing eventually worked because once again strings of violent unladylike phrases were being sent at him.

"Art shouldn't spew such ugly words, yeah." He announced sternly his hand moved from her chest to cover her mouth. If looks could kill he would be dead ten times over with the look the blonde girl was giving him. He chuckled deeply, a low rumble pulling straight from his chest. His hand slowly pulled away from the girls face and he was pleased to see that for the moment she was watching her choice of words, then again who wouldn't with an s-class criminal leaning over your bound naked body.

"Tell me your name, yeah." He commanded his hand cupping her cheek softly. At first she didn't answer, merely turning her head away to look anywhere but the gender-challenged man beside her. That wouldn't do, his artwork wasn't supposed to refuse him. In a flash he straddled Ino's stomach, using one hand to roughly grab Ino's jaw and force her to look at him.

Her head struggling in his grasp, violent shakes and nods attempting to force his hand away. His grip tightened to a painful level, killing off any future attempts of the girl to avoid him. Deep blue eyes glared into his one visible one, blonde hair shielding his artificial eye from view. Suddenly her strong voice came back to her, defiant tone delicately pronouncing her question.

"Why are you doing this to me?" It was said nicely enough, posed as a common question but behind her words tone of hatred and sorrow. Deidara smiled down at his little captive, the same sadistic smirk that she had been seeing her entire stay in his grasp, while he contemplated his answer. He decided to answer her honestly, after all what was she going to do to stop him.

"You're a piece of artwork, yeah. A diamond in the rough as some might say. Yet as art you are incomplete, it takes an artist to make you beautiful. I am an artist, yeah. I am going to make you beautiful." He responded eyes shining with every word he spoke. Ino didn't respond simply resorting to glaring harder at the man. Deidara scoffed softly "Tell me your name, yeah." He reiterated his fingernails digging into the tender flesh on her jaw.

"Ino," her reply was barely a whisper, but he heard it all the same. His grip tightened further and she repeated herself in a yelp. "Yamanaka Ino." His grip loosened thumb now gently rubbing the smooth skin of her cheek.

"Ino" he mummbled softly, eyes closing slightly. A small chuckle bypassed his lips as he thought of her name. "I'm making a little piggy my art, maybe I truly have gone mad." He commented between his chuckles. Ino responded in an angry huff, and attempted squirming out of her bonds yet again.

**Notes**: Ok well you read this far time to review. Tell me if you loved it or hated it, or just what was wrong with it. Feel free to flame I only wrote this for myself, and my sick twisted fantasies, so I don't care if you hated it just be honest. Also if you want to see more violent Akatsuki ships tell me, this one is going to remain a oneshot but a nice review could make me write another Deidara/Ino.

**PLUS**: Look out for: _wound from a scale_

My Next sick/Twisted fanfiction staring Kisame/Sakura. I promise it will be just as deranged as this one was, maybe even-moreso depending on my mode.


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